


Pusillanimity

by grossalien (Propriety_is_not_a_priority)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fear, Gen, Omorashi, Watersports, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 09:16:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1852690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Propriety_is_not_a_priority/pseuds/grossalien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short Bilbo-centric fear wetting for those who enjoy such things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pusillanimity

**Author's Note:**

> Art can be found here: http://queerpansexual.tumblr.com/post/95315375102/fic-on-ao3-this-was-not-the-type-of-adventure

This was not the type of adventure Bilbo enjoyed. He was covered in troll slime, hanging head down, trying to talk three beastly giants out of killing him, and not doing a good job. Fear had turned his quick mind to a sluggish mess, and his tongue wasn’t cooperating. He could feel a deep-seated tremble take over his body. Why had he ever listened to those foolish young dwarflings, oh why oh why oh why.

Blood was running to his head, leaving him dizzy, and he felt helpless, squirming in the big hands of troll, grasping his ankle. His fine red coat, now filthy and unrecognizable, was trying to flop down and he had to fight against gravity to lift his arms, just to hold it in place. His muscles felt as weak and wobbly as his aunt’s sponge pudding.

The troll holding him growled into his face. “Are there anymore of you little fellas hiding where you shouldn’t?” Bilbo frantically shook his head, making him feel even more lightheaded than before. He whimpered out a no, closing his eyes against the situation. He had never been so scared in his life, feeling almost separate from his body, and taken completely over by terror. Ohh, they were going to kill him, they were going to eat him, they were going to tear him to tiny little pieces.

“He’s lying!” The other troll, the one from before, said, and Bilbo gave a weak desperate cry “No I’m not!” He was hyperventilating, almost weeping from fear, and when the troll continued, smiling with glee, he couldn’t hold back his sob of horror.

“Hold his toes over the fire” Bilbo felt something disconnect in his mind, his body going limp and through the blood rushing in his ears, he caught the continuation: “Make him squeal.”

A wet heat spread down his front, and it took a few seconds of fighting through the frozen panic, for Bilbo to realize what had happened. His bladder had given out against his distress, and he was urinating uncontrollably. The awkward position meant that the warm liquid was running down his front and sides, trickling into his shirt and jacket, a dark patch spreading on the fabric. When the first drop hit his jaw, Bilbo couldn’t have stopped the terrified and humiliated tears for all the warm scones in the world. He was leaking at both ends, pee splashing to the ground around his very ears, dampening his curls, and he couldn't stop it, couldn't get his muscles working. Bilbo was right at the point of crying out for his mother, when the troll in front of him reared back yelping and screaming, and Kili jumped out, sword in hand and a cocky grin on his face.

“Drop him!” Bilbo was swinging around now, trying to keep his eyes open to see what was happening. “You what?” the troll snarled.

“I said - drop him.”

With that, Bilbo was suddenly flying through the air screaming, only to be caught by Kili in a hard collide, forcing them both to the ground. The company sprung out of the woods around them, battling the trolls, and Kili helped Bilbo sit up, grinning at him as if it was all terribly fun. The grin froze on his face as he made eye-contact with Bilbo, and saw the tears. “Bilbo, are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

Bilbo could do nothing but get up stiffly, clothes clinging to his body in uncomfortably cooling patches, an angry flush mixing with an embarrassed coloring of his cheeks.

**Author's Note:**

> Written because I needed to write something short and immediately satisfying in a - erhem - carnal way, to get through all the cute that is Young and Sweet. Fear wettings are a close second favorite to bedwetting.


End file.
